The Tiger and the Kitten
by Tabby X
Summary: A few thoughts on a paperwork-filled day.
1. The Tiger

A/N: Hello again! My, I just can't seem to leave my stories alone lately… Anyway, I'm going to write a little something to "free my mind" of writer's block, which I suffer chronically from. The characters of Law & Order: Criminal Intent are copyrighted to some people/companies who are not me. 

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**The Tiger and the Kitten**  
Part One 

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Paperwork is the most boring thing ever invented by human beings. I think that, if there is a hell, it probably has less fire and more stacks of unfinished reports. 

Maybe that's excessive. 

"I'm out of ink again," I complained, shaking the pen I was using. I looked up at my partner, sitting at his desk surrounded by the dreaded reports (just like the one I sat at). 

Bobby pulled a pen from the pencil holder sitting on the edge of the table. "Next time, don't let the lab interns 'borrow' your stuff. You know how they are about things like pens and paperclips." 

"I'll keep that in mind next time they have an inspection," I said, catching the flying pen. 

Bobby is a confusing sort of person. Most people are intimidated by him, mostly because of either his height or that borderline-crazy glint in his eyes. 

I think a good symbol of who Bobby is would be the tiger. The Siberian tiger is the biggest cat around. They can be seven feet from nose to tail. 

They can crush skulls and tear throats out. 

A tiger in a cage is like lightning in a plastic jar. No way to get out – but make one false move, unscrew the jar's lid an inch and… zap. 

Leashes? Collars? Tranquilizers? 

You wanna keep that arm? 

A tiger is something most people admire from a distance. Very few come in contact with them – and when they do, they either get eaten or… well, they don't control it. 'Befriend' isn't the right word, either. 

Harmonize? 

I don't know. 

Most people like to keep several concrete walls between themselves and a tiger – and most people like to keep their distance from Bobby. I don't. Even the tiger's handler gets scratched sometimes, but there's still a difference between those who can and those who can't get – stay – close. Those who run and join the onlookers and those who return, to try and earn something they can't have: a tiger's trust. 

I sighed and got back to work. Stopped after making the first mark. 

"Hey, Bobby." 

"Yeah." 

"This pen has green ink. The rule is blue or black only." 

The tiger can't trust. But you never know, do you? 

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A/N: Oh, I don't have anything to say, just go on a read part two! 


	2. The Kitten

A/N: Yo… I still don't own 'em… lah lah lah… Nothing witty to say… 

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**The Tiger and the Kitten**  
Part Two 

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I'd rather be out at a crime scene than stuck inside any day. But we'd had some tough cases lately, and that plus the overdue reports was enough to get us a paperwork day. It was an almost-welcome break. 

Almost. 

"If you had your own pens, you wouldn't have that problem," I said. Honestly. Alex really should have known better than to loan her stuff to the lab and its interns. 

"Give the green one back." I tossed the black-ink pen I had been using to my partner at her desk. The green went into my writing utensil holder. 

I removed another pen as Alex went back to her own work. Made a mark on a scrap – it was red, not blue or black. 

After testing two more (purple and another green), I glanced up at Alex. She was trying to look like she had no clue about the problem I was having, but a small grin was creeping over her face. 

People say that I'm weird. If I'm weird, Alex is downright bewildering. I've never met anyone as confusing as she is. One moment, she'll give me that little "I-know-you're-about-to-crack-the-case-and-I'm-with-you-all-the-way" smile. The next, she's steaming, taunting, and toying with a suspect into confession. 

Mood swings. 

She makes me think of a kitten – all cute and fuzzy on the outside, and will sit and purr and blink at you with large, innocent eyes. A kitten can be an angelic fuzzball – and in a second, become a demonic, raging buzz-saw-like thing made up of slashing claws and teeth. It can dig its talons into your arm and hiss and spit as it draws your blood. 

Perplexing little animals, kittens are. 

Alex is a perplexing little person. 

A kitten is stubbornly free-spirited. It will go if it wants; it will turn up its nose at expensive canned food just because it's in that sort of mood. 

It is also a fragile thing. Step at the wrong time, and you could crush it under your big, clunking, human feet. 

But it will never just stand there and take it. It will never do nothing – run, hide, fight, flight. It will do something about a situation. 

And a kitten is impossible not to love. 

Finally, the eleventh pen I tested worked and was blue. 

"Why do you even keep all those pens?" 

I looked up. There was a pause before Alex did the same. 

"I really don't know," I said thoughtfully. 

She smiled. "Me neither." 

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~ fine ~ 

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A/N: Ta-da! See what happens when you have an overactive imagination and a really boring history class? ^_~ 


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